Stayin’ Alive

As you may have noticed, it’s been two or three weeks since my last post.

I have not died. I swear.

Instead, it’s been more like… Okay, maybe I did die, but in an emotional, creative way, and this death has been the metaphorical manifestation of  the culmination of not only dark, dreary weather, but evil thoughts, a concentration on my screenwriting class which has drowned any and all other creativity, and the panic that I may or may not be failing my computer class because I really suck at doing homework, especially when it’s in excel.

Basically, read that as I have had intense writer’s block when it comes to any posts, since I’ve been focusing all my energy on A) trying not to give into certain horrible thoughts, B) trying to not sound like a complete retard while writing in a form I’m not used to, and C) mentally stabbing my teacher murdering whoever created excel rocking myself in a corner because I’m pretty sure my CIS teacher hates my guts.

P.S. Three people have used the Herpes Toilet. One girl I almost turned around from washing my hands to say “DON’T USE IT, IT’S GOT HERPES.”

P.P.S. My play sucked. Just because it’s my first one; so does my television show. Guess what’s getting framed at the end of this class?

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2 thoughts on “Stayin’ Alive

  1. I missed you! Sounds like you’ve got a lot going on in your screenwriting class and of course, real life does come first. I can totally understand being creatively drained so no worries about not blogging as frequently. Any progress on the bit of dialogue you posted from last time? 😀

    In any case, I hope you’re doing well and don’t give up on your writing! (both in class and in blogging) Practice makes perfect and we all have to suck a bit in the beginning to get better. 🙂

    • Thanks, Lillian! 🙂 It’s been entertaining but hard work. I’m honestly horrible at creative writing classes because I have to be creative on someone else’s terms!

      It made the cut into the play, that’s for sure! 😉 I tried to rewrite the play completely, but that one felt more complete and less stupid. Plus, I enjoyed writing Muriel as a 60-something year old woman with roots in the South. Not… whatever I tried to rewrite her as.

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